


What They Don't Teach You In History Class

by starlightwalking



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Back to Middle-Earth Month, Crack, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 17:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: A messenger from the Valar has arrived in Imladris, and Arwen is immediately enchanted by him, but he may have some unfortunate poorly-kept secrets...





	What They Don't Teach You In History Class

**Author's Note:**

> For B2MeM 3/22! The prompts were Fingon/Arwen from the Crack Ships card and Maedhros/Fingon from the Silm Fanon Inversion card. I can't believe that those two Fingon ships got hit at the same time! I was wondering how I'd manage to disprove Russingon being a thing, especially since I do usually ship it pretty hard, but this was just the perfect opportunity!
> 
> ...at least until I realized that there is no possible way that Fingon and Arwen could have met. I considered [pulling a Pengolodh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016310), but that would mess up the weird balance of that story, so I just went "fuck it" and started writing as if canon didn't matter, which frankly it doesn't. 
> 
> I had to fudge some timelines here so Elrond’s kids were born in the Second Age instead of the Third, and the messenger of the Valar didn’t come until the end of the Second Age instead of the middle (in this story, Fingon is replacing Glorfindel). Celebrimbor is probably dead by now and Númenor sunk into the sea, but the Last Alliance hasn’t happened yet.

Arwen was not used to her father approving of the men she sighed after. Usually, one word about liking a someone's eyes or his sense of humor would mean that the person in question would be invited to hunt with the Rangers for a few centuries, and that would be the end of that.

But this time, it was Elrond who introduced her to her newest sweetheart.

"It is a great honor, my lord," Elrond said, bowing deeply to the newcomer. "That the Valar would send a messenger all the way across the sea, and you in particular...! I will write to Gil-galad and inform him of your arrival; he will be ecstatic to see you once again."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," the newcomer said. "Assure him that I do not wish to take his crown from him; I am here on behalf of the Valar, not the Noldor." He turned and nodded to each of Elrond's family. "Will you do the honor of introducing me to your family?"

"Of course." Elrond beckoned them closer, and Arwen obeyed, her eye fixed on the newcomer. He was a tall, handsome elf with the light of the Trees in his eyes; he had a noble bearing that reminded her of Gil-galad and some of her father, though Elrond was too familiar to impress her much. His hair was dark, braided with gold, and her heart skipped a beat when he glanced her way.

"My wife, Celebrían," Elrond said, "daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn. I am sure your cousin will welcome you into her home of Lothlórien—it reminiscent of Doriath, or so I am told."

"I would not know, I never visited there," the newcomer admitted. "Thingol was protective of his borders, only Finarfin's kin were allowed to enter."

Arwen could scarcely believe the names they spoke of: Finarfin, Doriath, Thingol?! Those were grand titles for grander times, relevant to the First Age. Who  _was_  this newcomer?

"Well met, my lady," he said, kissing her mother's hand.

Celebrían smiled. "A gentleman of my mother's generation!" she exclaimed. "If only the lads these days had such class." She winked at her sons, who only rolled their eyes.

"And my sons, Elladan and Elrohir," Elrond continued. They each bowed, and Fingon murmured pleasantries.

Then her father turned her way. "My daughter, Arwen," Elrond said.

The newcomer met her eyes and Arwen forgot how to breathe. She had met Celebrimbor before he perished, and her grandmother Galadriel was radiant in a way only the eldest Quendi could be, but he shone brighter than them all. The glory of Valinor was in his every movement, and she fell in love with those warm brown eyes.

"My lord," she murmured. "It—it is an honor."

"The honor is mine, my lady," he said, kissing her hand like he had her mother's. He stayed just a moment too long, and Elrond cleared his throat.

Flustered, Arwen drew back, flushing slightly. Who was this man? she wondered.

"My dear family, the Valar have sent us in Middle-earth a messenger to aid us against the Enemy," Elrond said. "This is High King Fingon, lord of Dor-lómin in ages past, who was slain in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad fighting Gothmog, lord of Balrogs."

Arwen stared in wonder. This was not only an elf of Valinor, but a hero of the past! She was so overwhelmed that she excused herself along with her brothers when Elrond and Celebrían invited Fingon into their study. There was simply too much to take in.

* * *

Over the next few years, Arwen stumbled upon Fingon in the gardens of Imladris often. At first she could barely speak to him, but he inquired so gently about the flowers she admired and the books she read that she could not help but answer him. Soon she was asking him questions, learning about his favorite drinks, what Valinor was like, stories of her grandmother when she was young.

Fingon surprised her one night by taking her hand as they strolled together. Arwen was all aflutter for the next week, until her brothers caught on and began to tease her. She snapped back at them, which only made them laugh more.

To her horor, her father found out about her crush. He called her into his office and sat her down with a serious expression.

"Arwen, I worry for you," he began, but she interrupted.

"You cannot send him away!" she exclaimed. "He is not one of your warriors, he is a messenger of the Valar!"

"I know this," Elrond said gravely, "and I respect him too much to even suggest the idea. Alas, you are growing up too fast! I cannot stop you forever. But be careful with your heart, dearest. Fingon is not of this time, and... I know it from both of them that Gil-galad is not his birth-father, though Fingon did help raise him, but there are...other rumors about him. I am sure Pengolodh has told you the story of Maedhros upon the rocks?"

Arwen bowed her head. She knew the tale, knew that it was widely suspected by historians that the two had been in love and would have wed were it not for the politics of their families, and yet part of her had hoped...

"I know, Father," she murmured. "I will guard my affections."

Elrond sighed. "There will be an elf for you, Arwen," he assured. "But perhaps not for much time to come. The Valar know I waited for your mother."

As if one such as Fingon could ever love one such as her! Arwen cried herself to sleep that night, mortified by her own foolishness. Even if he did feel for her, she was not good enough for him. A half-elf who'd lived her life in isolation could never wed a grand lord such as he.

* * *

Arwen kept her distance from Fingon after that, but she did not mistake his longing glances her way. After one particularly awkward meal with him and her family, Fingon at last cornered her in the gardens outside.

"Lady Arwen, it has been some time since we last spoke," he said. "Have I done something to offend you? Whatever it is, I promise I will make it right."

So noble! So good-hearted! Arwen blinked back tears. "No, my lord," she said, her voice shaky. "I only realized that I was being a silly girl, flirting with you so. I apologize."

"Oh, Arwen..." Fingon cupped her chin in his palm, a soft smile upon his lips. "You are not silly at all. You are radiant as a star, and kind as an autumn breeze." He leaned forward, and Arwen was kissing him before she knew what was happening.

Fingon was warm and gentle, and she fell into his strong arms gladly. At last, they broke apart, and Arwen stared up at him in shock.

"But..." She could not find the words. "Fingon, you love me?"

"Of course," he said. "It has been awhile since I courted—I thought I was being obvious."

"But—Maedhros..." She knew as soon as she said his name that she had made a mistake. Fingon sighed and stepped back, a shadow in his eyes.

"This again," he said. "I do not know where your historians get these ideas! What have they been teaching you in your history lessons? No, Maedhros and I were not secretly engaged. We were cousins, dear friends, but not lovers. Maedhros had other sweethearts; I never could settle down. It is a great misconception."

"Oh," she said, feeling rather foolish. "Well. Um, in that case..." Now she pulled him forward, and they kissed again, her heart bursting with joy.

Here was a man who loved her, who wanted her, who was noble and kind and understanding. Here was a man her father could not disapprove of. Here was a man who Arwen admired and knew, and one whom she loved.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how their relationship would end up...either Arwen was already married to Fingon by the time Aragorn came along, and he ended up with one of her kids, maybe? Or she and Fingon don’t work out and when she falls in love with a mortal Elrond is screaming in the background “YOU COULD HAVE HAD FINGON AND YOU CHOOSE THIS??”
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


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